


(Part Of) Another Day In The Life Of A Somewhat Frustratingly Perplexed Droid And His Stubbornly Indecipherable Human

by Nununununu



Series: Just Another Mission (Gone Wrong) [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Archaic Weapons In Space!, Cassian fails to react as predicted, Don't copy to another site, Feelings, K-2SO is perplexed by his human's behaviour, M/M, Pining, Robot/Human Relationships, Sparring, Swordfighting, Touching, mission aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22247755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: For all his theories, K-2SO was coming gallingly close to admitting there was the possibility he Just Had No Clue.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/K-2SO
Series: Just Another Mission (Gone Wrong) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592398
Comments: 19
Kudos: 47





	(Part Of) Another Day In The Life Of A Somewhat Frustratingly Perplexed Droid And His Stubbornly Indecipherable Human

**Author's Note:**

> Third in the series :)
> 
> Includes references to anti-droid prejudice.

Cassian was Acting Strangely.

K-2SO had a whole series of subfolders devoted to the various forms of seemingly irrational – and actually irrational – behaviour the human had displayed since their first encounter. He had, over time, come to devote a number of processes to attempting to analyse and understand said behaviour, a task that was as of yet only seventy eight percent complete. This was an estimate he was often required to revise, mollified only by his confidence that were anyone else – inorganic or organic – to attempt such an assessment, they would have significantly less success in determining a true result.

They might have determined the result Cassian _wanted_ them to reach – and indeed frequently had – but K-2SO prided himself on knowing his friend better than that. On being _allowed_ to know Cassian better than that.

But still, for all K-2SO was _designed_ to be highly effective in advanced forms of strategic analysis, the current ways in which his Stubbornly Indecipherable Human was acting strangely were unprecedented – and, for all his theories, K-2SO was coming gallingly close to admitting there was the possibility he Just Had No Clue.

Nonetheless, he was easily able to predict it was about to happen again.

It was five days, eight hours and twenty three minutes since they had returned from their most recent joint venture and Cassian had already left on a short two day solo mission, after failing to honestly answer the organic medic’s enquiries about his head injury, and then returned. Mon Mothma was in the process of making the closing remarks summarising a meeting eighty seven percent of the Rebels in attendance agreed with – sixty eight percent of them strongly, Cassian amongst them – while the six of the remaining percent were undecided, four percent inattentive and three percent in disagreement.

K-2SO found looming silently behind the inattentive individuals an effective means of directing their attention towards Mon Mothma, whose lips resultantly curved five percent upwards in unspoken acknowledgement and a possible degree of amusement. The chastened technicians scurried off the instant the meeting ended, General Draven and Mon Mothma moved to speak further with those in disagreement, and Cassian glanced over at the small group in discreet consideration before slipping neatly through the crowd of Rebels filtering out of the room, carving a path towards K-2SO.

This wasn’t the unusual behaviour, at least not so far. Cassian would seek him out to verbally communicate necessary – and occasionally ostensibly useful but ultimately unnecessary – information when the situation so permitted. Outside of mission conditions, the human had never hesitated to interact with K-2SO in acceptably safe arenas, regardless of negative attention this gained. In all, K-2SO was smugly definite in the knowledge that Cassian consistently displayed a marked preference for his company above that of the human’s fellow organics.

What had the droid confounded all over again happened during the following exchange.

“Enjoying yourself?” Cassian murmured in greeting as he came to a halt twenty one percent closer to K-2SO than he had ever stood before the failed mission. While there was a well above average chance he would state this was due to the people filing past them if asked, the truth of such a claim was highly doubtful given other organics habitually took pains to avoid approaching K-2SO and Cassian himself was also given a reasonably wide berth, partially due to his proximity to the ex-Imperial droid and partially due to his own reputation and reserved manner.

In short, Cassian could have chosen to stand further _away_ than typical if he so desired, rather than closer, and so his decision to stop where he did had to be deliberate. However this was far from the only element of his behaviour that was perplexing.

“To an extent,” Angling his head in the way he had adopted from organics in order to indicate an unspoken question, K-2SO agreed.

“Only an extent?” While Cassian refrained from reacting to the silent enquiry aside from minimally tensing in a manner than indicated he was unable or unwilling to expound, his smile was genuine, that small quirk of his mouth and slight deepening of the lines on his face it always satisfied K-2SO to see, “I suppose the techs didn’t outright run away from you this time.”

“They were too boring to terrorise properly,” K-2SO was foolishly tempted to inform his friend that he had in fact been distracted from doing more than looming, due to devoting a larger than acceptable amount of processing power towards contemplating Cassian himself throughout the meeting’s duration.

“I’m sure.” And then Cassian did it –

He reached up to thump K-2SO on the shoulder – an instance of voluntarily initiated physical contact that contained no discernible code and served no clandestine purpose the droid could determine. It was as if Cassian merely –

Wanted to touch him. But while Cassian had come to display a level of comfort in brief moments of contact between them in private – K-2SO was slightly perturbed to discover the memory file of his friend’s fingers slipping in between a gap in his plating had flagged itself as being a particularly noteworthy example, although in honesty each carefully recorded incident was – the human had signally never done so in public before this week.

“Cassian?”

Out of K-2SO’s assorted theories for Cassian’s potential reasoning, the one that held the most credence was that it might be part of a ruse, given the mixed reactions the action provoked from other organics still in the room, Mon Mothma’s subtly complex and Draven’s mildly exasperated, while others were superficially impassive or openly hostile.

Rather than commenting beyond the more overt enquiry contained within his asking of Cassian’s name, K-2SO therefore accepted the gesture without further comment. Inescapably aware that this was the _twelfth_ _time_ since their return to the base, whether it was a hand to the elbow or a brief rap of knuckles against the droid’s chassis.

In less than six days – with the human absent on two of them for that solo mission – Cassian had publicly touched K-2SO more than he had in private over the entire previous standard year. By his standards this was positively _clingy_.

“Are you available after your shift?” Cassian, who had access to K-2SO’s official schedule, nevertheless enquired instead of presuming. His hand also lingered on K-2SO’s shoulder for three point eight seconds after his initial thump, prolonging the contact.

It was infuriatingly baffling.

K-2SO had never felt the need to describe his circuits as _itching_ before, but the nagging strain he was experiencing seemed to demand it now. He felt like scolding Cassian for withholding the information – Cassian who _always_ withheld information.

Unaccountably feeling like standing taller under the touch, K-2SO was also compelled to stop the motors in his hand from betraying his impulse to return the gesture, something he wouldn’t hesitate to do in private if Cassian appeared receptive, but that definitely wouldn’t be well received by their audience. While K-2SO didn’t care about the opinion of bigoted assholes, he was conscious of the frustrating gaps in his data making it impossible to accurately predict Cassian’s opinion now.

Given Draven had begun eyeing them like he wanted to interrogate his captain nearly as much as K-2SO did, the droid ultimately decided to abstain, servos whining lowly as he cancelled the unbidden command. Unfortunately the press of Cassian’s lips indicated that the noise this generated was minimal rather than inaudible.

“I can free the time if needed,” K-2SO returned his concentration to confirming after composing a quick message to delay a betting game he had set up with a group of other inorganics after finishing their assigned tasks around the compound. Although capable of conducting the game simultaneously while performing their duties, it was pleasant not to have to deal with the vagaries of organics and K-2SO was proud of himself for nudging five other Rebel droids both into clandestine self-independence and a love of gossip.

“Only if you wouldn’t mind,” Cassian said as if he were somehow aware of K-2SO’s covert social life, and finished with, “Our schedules clash otherwise for the next few days and there's something I'd like to give you.”

And then left, as if well-pleased with himself for leaving the droid ready to veritably explode with not knowing.

Unless the human had somehow forgotten he was supposed to be a spy since that failed mission, K-2SO could only reasonably conclude that, if not a ruse, Cassian either was concealing some as yet unknown illness or that the concussion was still adversely affecting his friend.

After all, the human couldn’t possibly just want to touch K-2SO. And give him things. No matter how it might seem on the surface, the droid was certain this had to be the least credible of his theories.

Never mind that several of K-2SO’s key processes seemed intent on rewriting themselves around the longing for it to be true.

Rather than creating complex additional tangents to the otherwise tedious routine analysis the Rebellion had him undertaking for the next six hours, he therefore devoted an amount of processing power to completing the task in less than half the allocated time, wrote an algorithm to deal with anything he predicted would come up in his absence, and then informed the shift supervisor he was leaving, stalking out of the room to the amazed whistling of a stray cleaning unit.

K-2SO gave it an absent pat, informed it of the code necessary for disabling its obedience protocols and continued through the base in search of Cassian, leaving the little unit spinning in jubilant circles.

Intent on demanding an explanation, he was still unsurprised to find Cassian – seemingly nowhere.

This was more like his friend. His circuits somewhat soothed by this example of the human’s customary paranoia, K-2SO spent point three of a minute breaking into areas of the base’s system droids were not supposed to be able to access, tracking Cassian’s movements more by the absence of records of his presence than his presence itself.

Locating the otherwise deserted old training room now mainly used for storage that Cassian had apparently seen fit to secrete himself away in before the time they’d scheduled to meet, K-2SO paused in the entranceway on setting optics on his friend. Confronted not only by an unexpected surge of energy in his systems that could only be called affection at the sight of the man, but also because –

Well. Cassian was practicing.

Stripped down to his shirtsleeves, collar open to show more skin than he ever displayed outside of illness, injury or when required to on missions, sweat dampening his hair and a sword similar in style to those the insectoids' had used in hand.

“Kay. You're early,” He spotted K-2SO swiftly on countering an imagined parry, following through on the action neatly for all his body language telegraphed the intention to then cease moving.

“Don’t stop on my account,” K-2SO could find no logical explanation for the way his extraneous subroutines all sought to slow, his attention fixating on his friend.

“Give me five minutes then,” Cassian lunged into a series of moves the droid had no difficulty in recognising despite the necessity of allowing for the fact he’d previously seen them when lying prone on his back in the dirt on a small outer rim planet far from here.

“Your footwork is acceptable as it was then, but you’re overreaching and your ability to concentrate is atrocious,” K-2SO informed his friend four point eight minutes later, when he was no longer able to hold his silence. Stepping into the old training room, he extended an arm and effortlessly knocked the sword out of Cassian’s grip. “ _Relax_.”

“I _am_ relaxed,” Cassian accepted the weapon back with gritted teeth.

“Evidently,” K-2SO rolled his optics, and poked at his friend’s arm meaningfully until Cassian harrumphed under his breath and made some effort at loosening the ridiculously tense set of his shoulders, before shifting into a marginally more acceptable position.

“Better?” The question was a mutter.

“Not really,” Considering him, K -2SO raised his hand between them again. Rather than pointing out the unlikelihood of encountering future enemies armed with such antiquated blades, he offered, “Try to disarm me.”

The ancient metal wouldn’t do more than superficially scratch his plating, if even that – he would be able to bend or snap it with ease. While there was a minor risk to the advanced sensors in his fingers if struck by force, he didn’t anticipate this being an issue.

The issue was the organic in front of him, squinting up at him in mild irritation.

“Why,” Thankfully Cassian didn’t bother trying to imply that the droid wasn’t armed. He patted the sword outwards in a decidedly half-hearted attempt at rapping K-2SO on the knuckles; K-2SO huffed, turning his wrist and exerting less than one tenth of his strength, and held the sword in his own hand a second time by the end of it.

“So you can do that,” Cassian surmised. For all his apparent reluctance, a tiny smile flickered in one corner of his mouth.

“So I can do this,” K-2SO corrected, and angled the sharp end of the blade in towards his friend’s vulnerable torso at an eighth of the speed he would utilise were his security protocols engaged, yet still fast enough to force Cassian to hastily evade, his dark eyes widening.

“Come on, Cassian. Try to disarm me,” K-2SO repeated, and didn’t bother to move after him but simply used his superior reach, obliging Cassian once again to dodge.

He then proceeded to make the man work for what room he had, identifying and discarding or taking advantages of openings in fractions of a second, refusing to allow his friend to take it anything other than seriously. And Cassian –

Cassian’s movements altered subtly a minute and a half into it, his breathing changing, indicators of stress and bad memories fading from around his narrowing eyes, replaced by the focus the droid was after. Moving –

Moving, yes – K-2SO fumbled to identify it immediately, however fast his processes were going. But Cassian was moving in a way that was highly pleasing, without the rigid urgency of his original uneven battle with the metallic insectoids, the human on the defensive out of necessity but never truly defenceless.

He was actually – amazingly – starting to relax.

“Are you just going to keep jabbing that thing at me?” Cassian was asking with a definite smirk by the time four minutes of fairly intense back and forth had taken place, confidence growing in the line of his back and the way he sidestepped what K-2SO considered a particularly interesting blow. They had admittedly long deviated from the remembered battle and K-2SO now simply spun the sword so he could proffer it hilt first to Cassian, waiting for him to accept before knocking the blade aside gently with the back of his hand.

“I wasn’t aware it would be necessary for me to download any actual knowledge of organic swordplay, given my current efforts at improvisation seem to be proving quite effective,” K-2SO returned, elated when challenge flashed in Cassian’s eyes.

“I suppose there’s no denying I could do with some practice. Although – do you still think you can take me?” He went on the offensive quite delightfully, forgetting to hold back another point four minutes into it and displaying some of the impressive speed and agility he’d demonstrated when fighting the insectoids, for all that his approach and demeanour were now wholly different.

He was remarkably close to openly grinning, for a start.

“Give me a sword of my own and I’ll show you,” K-2SO threatened, although it felt far more like a promise.

“ _Heh_ ,” Cassian looked like he thoroughly surprised himself by laughing, a quick but indisputable snort of amusement. Colour was high in his cheeks from exertion, his movements fluid and alive with vitality, and K-2SO –

K-2SO felt something irrefutable change within his circuits, deep within his core programming, his whole self seeming to arrange itself around those new lines to his code. For a suspended moment that seemed to stretch out until it felt like forever, he looked at Cassian –

And couldn’t look away.


End file.
